Anata to Ita Toki
by Oriminally
Summary: Chapter 3- A beautiful yōkai, My thoughts scattered, it was wrong to adulate him like this. He was for one— probably not interested; two— unconscious and three— and most importantly— we shared the same gender. But I loved him still... did I not?
1. Prologue

_**Title:**__** Anata to Ita Toki (When There Was Me and You)**_

_**Authoress: **__Lady Constantine  
_

_**Fandom from Which This Fiction Hails**__**: Inuyasha**_

_**Genre: **__Romance/Angst_

_**Parings: **__NarakuXSesshomaru/NarakuXInuyasha (Subject to be edited as story progresses)_

_**Warnings**__**: This story swears a lot and contains a lot of sexually explicit stuff. Mostly rated for mature content—sexual innuendos and vile language.**_

_**Summary**_:

_When the man of destruction lies down with the ground beneath him— he still gathers dirt does he not?_

_Shounen ai-yaoi-possibly-later ficlet. Written in Naraku's point of view, in an alternate universe, nothing much has changed though. A 'Prince and the Pauper' type story. Rated for a few raunchy chapters. Read and Review please!_

_**Author's Note**__**: I'm not sure if there will be gay-bashings or not because my research indicates that there wasn't much during this time period.**_

_**Please read and review, this is my first "Boy Love" fiction and I really need the feedback. Enjoy! **_

_**Prologue**_

He whispered in subtly and confidently all the things he wished to do with me… All the things he wanted to _**do**_ to me, rather. A malicious grin crept onto his face; I gasped and blushed, shaking my head 'no'. He laughed— the cute one he used when he knew he was going to get his way.

I focused my eyes on the horizon, trying to alleviate my feelings, as well as the blush from my face. The blush never fully faded…

"You look cute like that…" he sat next to me on the edge of the dock.

We watched the sun kiss the ocean—waves crashing against each other and against the rocks. Rebelling against the sun that lay on top of it. I shuddered as the tide came in, the air becoming cooler as the waves rocked—and so I rocked too.

We watched the waves turn and foam and froth white at the tip. He grinned wider as I shivered— obviously thinking of the same motions.

Coming closer he entwined his hand in mine, and the other hand in loose strands of hair by my ear. Again he whispered erotic nonsense in my ear, each word becoming more and more forceful until I gave an audible moan, then a gasp as I realized what I had done.

"Stop!" I said half-heartedly, he chuckled lightly and brushed my cheeks with his hair.

"That was a wonderful sound you just made… I hope to hear you to it again…" It was just like him to be so wicked, taking advantage of both my naivety and tenderness. He must have seen the abashed look on my face, because for a brief moment his smiled turned into a more sorrowful—apologetic one. I dismissed it, harrumphed and turned away.

"You can't be playing with my emotions like this!" I looked out of the corner of my eye to see that the old smile was back.

"I was only kidding around." I nodded, but still ignored him. One thing I learned about him— that was almost a constant for every situation no matter how much he had changed—was that he absolutely, positively, abhorred being ignored or when he wasn't answered orally.

I had done both.

He grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around. Before I had a chance to revolt, he was kissing me. He felt me all over with those smooth hands trying to get that same reaction he got before.

_Mission completed..._

I felt that grin creep on his face again as he shoved his tongue in my mouth. I had no choice but to let myself go to him, but it was what I wanted anyway.

We had kissed until the sun had disappeared into the sea, leaving the rising moon to own the night sky. He stopped briefly to remind me of what I already knew.

"You know how much I hate it when you do that..." I nodded to tempt him again. I loved it when he got angry with me, but I gave him a verbal response anyway.

"Sorry..." I said in a whisper. I didn't want him to know how much pleasure I had gotten out of it, but I had a feeling he already knew.

I took this moment to be the kisser not the kissed. He was surprised by my forcefulness, but didn't reject it. After allowing me to have my few minutes of dominance, he pulled away...

"How long has it been, that we have counted the days that we could be together...like this…" he crooked his fingers to count.

"Forever…" It was a rhetorical question but it seemed like forever since the day I first saw him and the day he first kissed me...

Kissing me on the neck he mumbled, "How can I make up that much passion lost in just one night...?"

"It doesn't just have to be one night..." I chuckled. It was basically an open invitation for him to do whatever he wanted right about now. He got the hint. He made a 'shushing' motion. Obviously we're not planning on being done for the night...

_Or anytime soon… __**Author's Note**__**: YAY! Prologue over! I think I made Naraku as submissive as he is so he could tell the story as passionately as I have presented so far.**_


	2. The Bluebell on the Ground

_**Disclaimer**__**: I do not own Inuyasha or it's hotly draw characters! Tchau!**_

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_**The Bluebell on the Ground**_

Sweat furrowed my brow as I carried the water jugs to the cart.

"Just a few more of these and the deliveries, then I can get back to my studies…" A bottle lightly tapped my head.

"You're bein' too slow…" a bored voice complained. "Do you want yur poor okāsan to drop o'er dead from the heat? Work faster!" I sighed wishing she was at capable of helping, but my mother preferred to do this than actually taking time to commit or dedicate herself to something that required labor.

"Yes hahaoya," I remained respectful to her, even though the best she could muster up for her only child was a sake flavored sigh. I winced in disgust as I loaded the last few jugs of water.

My mother was an eyesore for me to gaze upon, but a 'sight for sore eyes' for many other fellows. Long atramentous, sable, hair—ceaselessly falling upon a hot coco complexion with gleaming viloaceous eyes that could possibly—and very well might have—'sunk ships'. An eye patch covered her left eye's optics, it was said to pertain to her past as a corsair and what made her stop, but I think she just got careless one day.

She bandaged one arm that was badly burned and concealed from the world. In the same hand she wielded a (presumably empty) sake bottle, her trademark weapon that she would not hesitate to throw at her son.

The only thing she kept—maybe as a civil courtesy, was her seven inch 'Denicotea' "Cavalier Star" cigarette holder, with a cigarette of course. It almost always hung— limp in her mouth or if not, it was between her fingers.

"Hahaoya I'm done!" I said sweetly. She nodded and patted me on the head to commend my good effort. Then she did something I didn't expect, she gave me a hug.

Mother had a figure—succubus in origin, that always wore outlandish clothing. Black metal mesh in the form of a tight long sleeve shirt rubbed against me. The only thing keeping me from touching with her ample bosom was a long and dark blood red, microseude coat with Persian linings. Perhaps this jacket may have been worth something or had been owned by a luxurious person when it was stolen, but now it was just part of a holey and weird fashion escapade. The only thing(s) covering her privies were a criss-crossing belt and skimpy black underwear. Lastly a Bunraku puppeteer's black cat-like hat completes the ensemble.

As you can see—or you will see when I point it out— my mother's ensemble could be analogous with _whorish_…

"Good job Naraku-chan!" I blushed furiously, looking down at her black geta sandals. This impossible woman had just complimented me…and no matter how ridiculous I thought she looked when my mother complimented me— when any child's mother complimented them, it always felt like you had done the most grandiose thing in the world, when in fact you might have done nothing; and when this compliment was coming from the woman who could do no more than scowl, or smirk, or pity, or laugh, or all of the above, at my attempts to please her, it was as big as winning the lottery.

_Hell, maybe even bigger…_

"Asagāo-sama! We need you down by the dam!"

"OK I'll be there!" she turned to me, "Take these n distribute it 'round town. Norm'lly I'll come with, but…" she gave me a stern look and I nodded.

"I won't let you down Ma!" Mother giggled and patted my head again and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, making me blush again.

"It's a crime to have such a cute child." She smiled and skipped off.

"Bye-bye mama! Be safe!" I looked after her—singing and throwing the arm containing the empty bottle in any which way—worried and hoping she had heard me for once…

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_**Author's Note**__**: Bear with me if the characters are OOC! Oh and Naraku is nine while his mother is twenty-five. I will not be updating until I get reviews. How ever long that takes is for anyone reading this to decide :( sorry.**_

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**Glossary**

Okāsan—_means mother._

Hahaoya—_also means mother, but a more formal form._


	3. And He Fell From the Apple Tree

_**Author's Note**__**: Not much to say for this chapter! All my chapters are short for a reason. I like to keep y'all guessing! Please read and review! I seem to be better with first person than third… Thank you to all who review!**_

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…_**And He Fell From the Apple Tree**_

I dragged the cart throughout the whole village. My work would not be done until the last-but-one jug had been delivered. Even worse the sun decided to come out and made the summer heat an unbearable burden on my exposed skin. Still not as bad as listening to senile old fools argue over which one would slap me first for delivering too early or too late by minuscule amounts.

It was _beyond_ ridiculous…

I stopped on the dirt path to rest, and sighed, knowing I still had more than half to deliver and even more chiding to endure. I found a huge apple tree to sit under to hide from the summer heat. Hungry bugs joined me under the tree for a midday snack. To distract myself, I began singing a saibara song, the one mother had sung to me every night since I was an infant. I never discovered the title, nor nearly enough the lyrics, to do anything but hum to it.

Caught up in the song, I took my _so no koto_ from the cart and started playing. I was sent into euphoria—elated by the rhythm my _koto_ created in affects to the song. Though it should be expected, my steady hand made it sound so appealing.

A well timed breeze came in as the last note faded. I inhaled the scent of the wind; enjoying it very much. It was like sweet peas and violets…but tasted like mint—maybe pine or something candied. Regardless, it was very tasty. I took a few moments to close my eyes and tried to envision the origin of the scent—closer than I thought.

Something fell out of the tree above me and landed on top of me. The apple blossoms had landed softer than the person.

"Are you alright?" I asked softly, pain clouded my thoughts as I realized the person had broken two of my ribs on impact.

The person—a boy, was unconscious, which explained why didn't respond. The boy had a big gash in his forehead, staining his bleach white hair. Blood spilled from his mouth, staining everywhere around his lips. His clothes were in good order though, better than new, but the body under and around had been bruised. Avoidance of garments wouldn't be hard to achieve given what he was wearing—a black mainland vestment with gold linings—nothing over or under to protect his arms or chest. Malachite, velvet gathered pants and copper mainland boots were the only thing to protect the bottom half. He was beautiful even in the worst conditions, and he needed my attention. _**And**_ I had him all to myself.

I gently pulled him off me. "Last but one…" I commented, "I can forgo my share," Carefully, I washed his wounds and gently bandaged them with the sleeves of my yutaka. Sure the bruises weren't deep, but infection was probable even still.

With the blood and gore gone he began to look more and more bewitching. More and more like someone deific, certainly not human in anyway… I gasped as I realized what he was. _"Yōkai!"_ My hand froze as I placed a damp cloth on his forehead. I had never seen any demons up close, but I had been told they were all boorish or dishonorable. The one in front of me had looked like neither assumption.

He had wonderfully pale skin. I pushed back his hair to see a crescent moon as well as slice-like bands on his cheeks. Still he was halcyon and pristine compared to my miscreant being. I touched his cheeks and blushed. He was warm—recovering quicker than I had imagined. I was glad. Slowly and audaciously I had inched towards his face, hoping his beauty was real, that it was tangible. I wrinkled my nose when he exhaled and relaxed it when I realized his breath was the mint taste from the wind, I could smell no blood at all.

I inched even closer until our noses touched and my lips were just a hair's breadth away. I held my breath and blushed redder, the heat radiating off of me._ He is real…__a beautiful yōkai…_ My thoughts scattered, I had never been so captivated by anyone in this particular way—male or female. It was wrong to adulate him, he was—still of course a yōkai and I…- it wasn't the way things were to be. He was for one—probably not interested; two—unconscious and three—and most importantly—we shared the same gender.

I strayed close, our lips touching, but not kissing. Closing my eyes I imagined what it would be like to kiss him, and if he would kiss back. Moving my head back a little when I knew he wouldn't kiss back. Slowly I pulled his hair back again, the wind making it return to his face anyway. I tried to slow my breathing to match his, failing terribly, my heart was racing to keep up with my thoughts.

_"Boo…"_

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_**A/N****: Chapter over! I will be slow in putting up the next one because research papers have just begun! **_

**Glossary**

**So no Koto—a thirteen stringed koto, for more information look it up on Google.**

**Koto—a stringed instrument brought from the 'mainland' to Japan, there are different strings for each different koto, most similar to the violin but it is played sitting down.**

**Yōkai—are classes of demons in Japanese folklore ranging from evil to just mischievous.**


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